Fight or Flight
by my crooked heart
Summary: AU. Kurt and Blaine are on opposite ends of the social spectrum - Kurt's a Cheerio and Blaine's co-head of the Glee Club. When Kurt gets stuck with Blaine as a tutor, he learns they aren't so different. Meanwhile, karma is being dealt at McKinley High.
1. A Deal Like This

**Fight or Flight**

**Summary:** _AU Glee fic. Blaine is the co-head of New Directions along with Quinn. Kurt and Rachel are Cheerios. When Blaine has to tutor Kurt, they find that they aren't so different after all. Meanwhile, mysterious notes are appearing all over McKinley - and they're causing havoc. Someone is spilling secrets. No-one is safe._

**Author's Note:** oh that summary sucks . Please give it a chance anyway. Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter One**

When Kurt Hummel had walked into McKinley High on the first day of his freshman year, his thoughts hadn't been on what classes he would have or what teachers he'd be stuck with. His mind had been firmly fixated on one thing and one thing only – what extra-curricular he would apply to. He knew from listening to the older kids in Lima that whatever choice he made would decide his entire school career. _Sometimes,_ he had thought, _you make a choice, and it's the right one. Sometimes you make a choice and it's the wrong one. Sometimes you make the only choice you can, wrong or right. The thing is, you make a choice, and you live with the consequences. You don't get a second chance to go back and make that choice again; you can only deal with what follows._

So when he walked up to the notice board in the main corridor and scanned the mess of flyers, he ignored the blue Science Club leaflet. He skimmed over the white sheet proclaiming that Chess Club was the place to be and rolled his eyes at the Glee Club poster. Finally, his eyes alighted on a red and white sheet, already covered in scribbled signatures, and fumbled for a pen. He scrawled his name on one of the free spots and one week and a very tiring tryout later, he was a Cheerio.

That had been three years ago, and Kurt had never looked back.

"Stop _wriggling_, Rachel," he ordered. The brunette glared at him from her position in front of the mirror and he gave her his best ice queen stare in return. "You know what? You're going to be sorry when I tear off your eyebrow." Scowling, Rachel stilled and allowed him to apply another wax strip. She gave a little squeak of pain as he tore off the wax and dumped the strip in the trash, wiping his hands and giving her a satisfied once-over.

"How do I look?" she asked, studying her reflection.

"Better," Kurt said dismissively. "Coach Sylvester should stop with the eyebrow jokes now. For a while, anyway. Of course she'll probably just move onto another feature you don't like – maybe your nose this time. That's something I can't fix. At least not without a medical degree and some surgical tools."

Rachel touched her nose protectively and smoothed her freshly waxed eyebrows. "Maybe Coach Sue will pick another victim. Brittany Pierce is getting a little chubby around the edges, don't you think?"

"I heard that it's _baby_ fat, if you know what I mean," Kurt said, waggling his brows. Rachel's mouth became an 'o' of surprise. "According to Jacob Ben Israel, Brittany and Puckerman have been canoodling in the choir room after school."

Rachel wrinkled up her nose. "Who says canoodling anymore?"

"The point _is_," Kurt said, throwing a pillow at his friend, "that rumour has it that Brittany's pregnant and Puck's the father."

"Lies," Rachel said, waving her hand. "There was a rumour going around last month that he got Quinn Fabray pregnant."

"Yeah, well. Like _that_ would ever happen."

Kurt and Rachel shared a laugh. Quinn Fabray was the solo singing, tantrum throwing head of the McKinley High Glee Club. She was also head of the celibacy club and frequently on the receiving end of slushie facials. When the rumour about Quinn and Puck had gotten out, Kurt had known it was a lie – because he had it on good authority that Quinn Fabray had never even kissed anyone. Jacob Ben Israel was a low life leech, but he was a useful one.

"I should get going," Rachel said, glancing down at her watch. She got to her feet and smoothed down her Cheerios uniform before leaning forward and kissing Kurt once on each cheek. "My dads are making tapas. I'll see you at school. Don't forget to study for your Spanish test – remember what Coach Sue said."

"Yeah, yeah," Kurt said. "See you tomorrow, Berry." He waved Rachel out of his bedroom, rolling his eyes as she made one last comment about his Spanish test. It wasn't a big deal – sure, Coach Sylvester had warned him that if he got less than a B he'd be off the Cheerios, but it was _Spanish_. He spoke the language fluently. He was hardly going to fail.

And since it was only seven o'clock, that meant that Kurt had plenty of time to study _and_ relax. He stretched out luxuriously on his bed as he thought about the night ahead – maybe he could have a Grey's Anatomy marathon. He could try out some new recipes. He reached absent-mindedly for his laptop and logged into his instant messenger account, a small smile tugging at his lips as a new option for the evening opened up.

He could talk to Curls.

**Porcelain - hi. what's up?**

**Curls - oh, hi :) i'm just catching up on homework.**

Kurt knew that having an online boyfriend was sad beyond belief. It was the type of thing that Quinn Fabray did, not Kurt Hummel, head Cheerio. But there weren't many out guys in Lima, Ohio, and even though no-one would dare mess with Kurt, most guys were afraid to date him. He'd met Curls in a chat room about Vogue and had been surprised to find out that they both went to McKinley. Of course, Curls refused to tell Kurt his real name. All Kurt knew was that they were in different grades but they shared a few classes, but that wasn't much to go on at all. Kurt was in a lot of mixed grade classes, since his test results usually weren't too great. He'd tried to guess who Curls could be a million times, but he'd never managed to work it out.

**Porcelain - going to study for the Spanish test tomorrow?**

**Curls - already did it. i can't get less than a b on this test or my dad will kill me.**

**Porcelain - ha, me too. except my dad doesn't really care. it's just coach sylvester. she said i'm off the squad of i don't get my grades up.**

**Curls - so shouldn't you be studying?**

**Porcelain - i like talking to you more ;)**

There was a pause, just like there always was whenever Kurt tried to be flirty. He tapped his fingers impatiently against the keyboard while he waited for a reply.

**Curls - i like talking to you too, but i don't want you to lose your spot on the cheerios. then i'd never see you in your uniform ;)**

Kurt grinned. That was more like it. Usually Curls would make some excuse and then log off. He typed out a response, deciding to try his luck.

**Porcelain - if you'd tell me who you are, you could see me in a lot less ;)**

**Curls - sorry. don't think it's a good idea.**

**Porcelain - you always say that. why?**

**Curls - i'm not your type.**

**Porcelain - how do you know?**

**Curls - i've got to go study. bye, kurt.**

**Curls has logged off.**

Kurt sighed and closed the lid of his laptop. It was always the same. He would flirt and sometimes Curls would respond, but whenever Kurt asked who he was, he clammed up. He wondered if Curls was a girl and maybe that was why he refused to tell Kurt who he was. No – that was crazy. With a sigh, Kurt shook his head and decided to put Curls out of his mind for the time being. He had more important things to do. He glanced around his room, his eyes skimming over the stack of Spanish textbooks in the corner and the pile of homework on his desk, before finally alighting on his season six box set of Grey's Anatomy.

It was going to be a good night.

* * *

Blaine Anderson wasn't a bad kid. He rarely got in trouble, he got good grades, and he had never been sent to the principal's office. So when Ms. Pillsbury had come to his Spanish class and asked Mr. Schuester if she could borrow him, needless to say, he was confused. He followed the guidance counsellor to Principal Figgins office, where he assumed things would become clearer – however, they just got even more confusing from the moment they reached the glass-walled office. Sitting in front of Figgins's desk was a boy that Blaine recognised at once. It was hard not to. With his smooth, white skin and perfectly coiffed brown hair, Kurt Hummel stood out. Not to mention the bright red and white Cheerios uniform.

He also had a voice like an angel and his screen-name was Porcelain, but Kurt didn't know that Blaine knew that. Blaine hesitated outside the door, remembering his online conversation with Kurt the night before and wondering if somehow the Cheerio would realise it was him. However, he couldn't stand outside the office forever. Prompted by Ms. Pillsbury, Blaine knocked on the door and let himself in, flushing a little when Kurt looked in his direction. He focused his gaze on Principal Figgins. "Er, Ms. Pillsbury said you wanted to see me, sir."

"Mr. Anderson," Principal Figgins said, beaming. "Come in, come in, have a seat." The only available seat in the room was beside Kurt. Blaine swallowed hard and slowly sank into it, draping his messenger bag over the back of the chair.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not really sure–" Blaine began, but found himself cut off by Kurt.

"Him?" the Cheerio snapped, jerking a thumb in Blaine's direction. "You want him to tutor me? He's a year younger than me, Principal Figgins. And he has a permanently glazed over expression. He's moronic. I doubt he can tie his shoelaces, let alone tutor me."

Blaine felt a hot spike of anger, but reminded himself that Kurt was a Cheerio – in school, at least, he wasn't able to be anything more than vapid and bitchy and shallow. He composed himself and looked at Principal Figgins. "What's this about tutoring?"

"Mr. Hummel," Principal Figgins said, shooting a disapproving look in Kurt's direction, "has failed his last three Spanish exams." For the first time, Blaine noticed the paper clutched in Kurt's hand. Their Spanish test from the week before, probably. "We have a strict policy here at McKinley High when it comes to grades and extra-curricular activities. Coach Sylvester has previously warned Mr. Hummel that he would be removed from the cheerleading squad if he couldn't maintain a B average in all of his classes. Now that he has failed to do so, however, Coach Sylvester has informed me that she can't afford to remove him from the squad."

Kurt looked smug. Blaine darted a quick glance at him and then looked back at the principal. "I don't see what this has to do with me."

"Coach Sylvester and I have reached a compromise," Figgins said. "If Kurt agrees to daily tutoring sessions, he will be allowed to remain on the Cheerios and compete with them. Mr. Anderson, you are a model student and your teacher informs me that you haven't received a lower grade than a B since freshman year. I'm volunteering you to be Mr. Hummel's tutor."

"Me?" Blaine squeaked. He tried to imagine meeting with Kurt every day, teaching him how to memorise verbs and hold conversations, maybe leaning over his shoulder to point out a reference, or brushing aside his hair to – Blaine stopped himself, feeling his cheeks grow red. "I'm not sure if I'm the best choice, Principal Figgins."

"See?" Kurt sneered.

"It's settled," Principal Figgins said, glaring at the two boys. "You will meet every day after school until Mr. Hummel's grades pick up. And if they don't, Mr. Hummel, you'll be off the Cheerios. I won't be offering you a deal like this one again." He looked down at his desk, wordlessly dismissing the boys.

Blaine got to his feet and slung his bag over his shoulder, making a beeline for the door in an attempt to get away without having to talk to Kurt. He'd barely made it three feet down the hallway before Kurt shouted after him.

"Hey, Anderson," he called. Blaine froze, pivoting to look at the other boy. Kurt was standing with his arms folded, hip popped. His eyebrows were raised. He gave a resigned sigh. "Look, listen to me, hobbit. I'm not happy about this arrangement. I doubt you're happy about this arrangement. But I really need to stay on the Cheerios, so here's my offer – you help me get my grades up, and I'll help you get a date with any Cheerio on the squad. Deal?"

Blaine nodded quickly and then hurried away, clutching his books to his chest. He waited until he was sure he was out of Kurt's sight before stopping and slumping onto the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees. "Deal," he whispered.

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_Yeah, so this is my first attempt at a Glee AU fic. It's gonna be a multi-chapter fic so if you enjoyed it please stick around for the updates ;D And don't forget to leave a review!_


	2. On His Radar

**Fight or Flight**

**Summary:** _AU Glee fic. Blaine is the co-head of New Directions along with Quinn. Kurt and Rachel are Cheerios. When Blaine has to tutor Kurt, they find that they aren't so different after all. Meanwhile, mysterious notes and messages are appearing in lockers around McKinley – not all of them nice. Secrets will be spilled._

**Author's Note:** so I made a mistake in the previous chapter and said that Blaine was tutoring Kurt in English. I fixed it, but just for the record, he's tutoring him in SPANISH, okay? Sorry for the mix-up . Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far!

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**Chapter Two**

When the bell rang, Blaine made his way to the choir room, wondering how he was going to tell the Glee Club about his new job as Kurt Hummel's tutor. He knew that Quinn's first concern would be for their rehearsal schedule, but he didn't think the tutoring sessions would conflict with that – after all, Kurt would have cheerleading practice, too. Mr. Schuester would probably try and convince him to get Kurt to join the Glee Club. He was always on the look-out for new recruits. Blaine shook his head as he pushed open the choir room door. Kurt joining Glee Club was about as likely as Blaine joining the Cheerios.

Everyone else was already there, sitting on the hard plastic chairs with glazed expressions as Mr. Schue talked about his latest musical lesson. Blaine muttered a quick apology for his tardiness and took a seat beside Quinn, who shot him a look.

"You're never late," she whispered. "Where were you?"

"Tell you later," he whispered. Mr. Schue cleared his throat and Blaine faced forward, ignoring Quinn's little huff of indignation.

"Alright, New Directions," Mr. Schue said, tapping the white board. The word 'Regionals' was scrawled across the board in Mr. Schue's messy handwriting. Blaine leaned forward, wondering if they were picking their set list. "As you know, we have a lot of money to raise if we want to make it to Regionals in style. We need costumes, we need a bus and we need the money to pay for them. You've already shot down my bake sale idea – for the second year in a row – so we're going to put on a show."

"Like a musical?" Mercedes said.

"More like a concert," Mr. Schue replied. "We'll put it on in the auditorium and charge admission."

"Didn't we already try that?" Artie cut in. "And nobody came. No offence, Mr. Schue, but your idea's a bust. Nobody's going to pay to see us except our parents."

"As much as I hate to agree with you, Artie, you're right," Mr. Schue admitted. Blaine raised an eyebrow as their teacher continued. "But this year, we'll have an audience. I promise."

"How can you promise that?" Quinn shot back.

"I'm glad you asked me that question, Quinn," Mr. Schue smiled. "We'll have an audience because we won't be the only ones performing. Coach Sylvester has agreed to let me borrow the Cheerios."

The choir room exploded with protests.

"She's trying to sabotage us, Mr. Schue!" Tina said.

"Yeah, even we know that you can't trust the Cheerios," Finn added, looking around at his fellow football players.

"Why not?" Mr. Schue asked, throwing his hands up in the air and looking around at the group questioningly. He focused his attention on the football players. "You guys are just as popular as the Cheerios. You run in the same circles. Why can we trust you and not them?"

"Because Coach Beiste doesn't want to get rid of the Glee Club," Sam said.

Shouts rose up once again and Mr. Schue held up his hands. "Alright, guys," he said. "Stop it. I know that Coach Sylvester hasn't been our biggest fan in the past, but this time, she really does just want to help. Trust me on this one." His gaze flickered to Blaine. Blaine stiffened – he knew. That was why Coach Sylvester was willing to help the Glee Club – she thought it would give Blaine an incentive to tutor Kurt, allowing her to keep one of her best Cheerios on the squad. Blaine silently willed Mr. Schue not to say anything.

Luckily, he didn't. After some more grumbling, the rest of rehearsal was spent picking songs for the concert and deciding who would sing what. When the bell rang to signal the end of rehearsal, Quinn hooked her arm through Blaine's and tugged him outside.

"So," she said when they were in the parking lot, heading for her red Volkswagen Bug. "Why were you late to rehearsal?"

"Hm?" Blaine said, blinking. He caught sight of the Cheerios out of the corner of his eye and saw Kurt at the front of the pack, his cheeks flushed with laughter.

"Why were you late?" Quinn pressed, following his gaze.

At the same time, Kurt caught sight of Blaine. "Hey!" he shouted. "Anderson!"

Quinn's eyes bugged as Kurt jogged towards them, his sports bag bouncing on his shoulder. Blaine could do nothing but stare helplessly as Kurt came to a halt beside them and produced a black Sharpie. The Cheerio grabbed Blaine's hand and uncapped the marker, scrawling a series of numbers on Blaine's skin. When he was finished, he tucked the marker into his pocket and gave Quinn a once-over before meeting Blaine's eyes.

"Call me to set up a tutoring session," Kurt instructed. "Or text me, whatever."

"Uh, sure," Blaine stammered. "Um. I guess we'll start tomorrow, then."

"Whatever," Kurt said again, smoothing back his already perfect hair. "Just remember that I have practice until five every day." He walked away without saying goodbye, leaving Blaine and Quinn beside her car in stunned silence.

After a few moments, Quinn blinked and shook her head. "What," she said, still staring after Kurt, "was that?"

Blaine's cheeks flushed and he tugged open the car door. "Oh, nothing," he said, trying to sound breezy. "I'm just tutoring him, that's all."

"_Just_ tutoring him?" Quinn said, unlocking her own door. "Just tutoring Kurt Hummel? How did _that_ happen? I didn't even know you were on his radar."

"I don't think I was," Blaine replied, looking at the numbers scrawled on his hand. "Until today, anyway. He's failing English and he needs to get his grades up if he wants to stay on the Cheerios, so Figgins volunteered me for the job."

Quinn whistled lowly and then chuckled. "Oh, my God," she said, starting the car. "That's why Coach Sylvester wants to help Mr. Schue, isn't it? So that you'll tutor Pretty Boy Cheerio and she doesn't have to kick him off the squad."

"I think so, anyway," Blaine said. "At least that means we can probably trust her."

Quinn shook her head. "I'd never trust a snake like Sue Sylvester. And you shouldn't either."

She dropped him off at his house with a promise to call him later and then roared away in the Bug. Blaine called a quick hello to his parents and then hurried upstairs. Once he was alone in his bedroom, he studied the number scrawled across his hand and then carefully copied it into his phone. After a moment's hesitation, he hit the 'call' button.

Kurt picked up almost immediately. "Yeah?"

"Kurt?" Blaine said, wincing as his voice broke. "Um. This is Blaine Anderson. I'm calling about your tutoring session..."

* * *

"So if you want to say you're going to the library, that's–"

Kurt sighed and laid his pen on his notebook. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands and heaved an even bigger sigh as Blaine cleared his throat.

"You should really pay atten–"

"I don't _care_ about the library," Kurt interrupted. "Or how to get there. I don't care about this stupid language. All I want to know is how I can pass my next test."

"I can't," Blaine replied, narrowing his eyes. "The point of a tutoring session is for me to tutor you. Not give you the answers."

Kurt rolled his eyes. They had been at this for over an hour and Kurt knew he wasn't any closer to the B grade he needed to stay on the Cheerios. So far, all Blaine had done was list a lot of useless verbs and babble on about building names. Kurt was already itching to get away from the little nerd. Blaine had been shy when the session began but now that shyness was gone, replaced by a brassy arrogance, like he thought that he was better than Kurt.

"Look," Blaine said, his tone softening, "I know that it's difficult, but–"

"I'm not stupid," Kurt snapped, glaring at the other boy. Blaine shrank back in his seat, his eyes widening. "I don't need a tutor, alright? I can do this on my own."

"Then why did you agree to the tutoring sessions?" Blaine asked. "If you can get your grades up on your own, then why are you wasting my time?"

Kurt was silent for a moment. "Fine," he admitted. "I need your help. I'm not stupid, it's just that there's a lot to learn, alright?"

"Alright," Blaine conceded. "Spanish can be tricky. So maybe we'll start at the beginning and go over basic vocabulary."

"Tricky?" Kurt snorted. "Try ridiculous. Try boring and useless. If my dad didn't insist on making me learn another language, I wouldn't even need your help."

"Another language?" Blaine said curiously. Kurt gave him an aside glance.

"I'm fluent in French," he said in an offhand way. He reached for the Spanish dictionary again, raising an eyebrow at how stiff Blaine's shoulders had gotten. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Uh, Anderson? Are you feeling alright?"

Blaine blinked and shook his head, flushing a little. "Yeah, I'm fine. So if you're going to the library, it's _voy a la biblioteca_..."

For the next hour, Blaine went over the basics of Spanish, reminding Kurt which verbs he should use and when they were appropriate. By the time Blaine left, Kurt was feeling more confident about his Spanish skills, but he was also irritable and angry that his evening had been spent studying a language he detested. Muttering under his breath in French, he logged onto his computer and went onto the McKinley High website to check the Cheerios news section. He was reading an article about their competition at Regionals, the Firecrackers, when a cheerful beep announced that Curls had just signed in.

Kurt grinned, thinking that maybe the evening wouldn't be a waste, after all.

**Porcelain – hi there stranger.**

**Curls – hi, how are you?**

**Porcelain – exhausted. i just spent the last two hours conjugating spanish verbs with a vertically challenged nerd.**

**Curls – sounds awful.**

**Porcelain – oh, it is. i'm stuck with him for the foreseeable future, too. i need to raise my spanish grade.**

**Curls – he can't be that bad.**

**Porcelain – trust me, you have no idea.**

There was a long pause, and then –

**Curls – gotta go. later.**

Curls has logged off.

* * *

"Coach Sylvester, you can't be serious."

Kurt stared, aghast, as Coach Sylvester paced the gym, looking formidable as always in a bright red tracksuit. A whistle dangled around her neck and she held a McKinley High clipboard in her hands.

"I'm more serious than Berry's case of man-hands, Porcelain," Coach Sylvester replied grimly. Rachel looked at her hands, examining them. Kurt looked pleadingly at the coach. "And don't give me that look. I'm doing this for you."

"Performing with the Glee Club?" Rachel said. "That's social suicide, Coach Sylvester. You saw what happened to the football players when they joined. Finn got a slushie facial! Finn!" She sounded scandalised, but she always did when the words 'slushie facial' were used in relation to her boyfriend.

"I'm fully aware of what the drones at this school do to Schuester's little puppets," Coach Sylvester said. "And I don't care. Thanks to Porcelain, for the next few weeks, you're members of the Glee Club."

"What does Kurt have to do with this?" Santana demanded. "Why doesn't _he_ just perform with them?" Kurt shot her a poisonous glare.

"His utter refusal to learn anything has put me in a tough position, Sandbags," Coach Sylvester replied. "I can either kick him off the Cheerios, or work with Will Schuester to keep his talented, bony little body on the top of my pyramid. We can't afford to lose Porcelain this close to Regionals, so I'm swallowing back the bile and hatred I feel at the thought of helping that greasy haired man child, and as my minions, so are you."

"But Coach Sylvester–"

"ENOUGH!" Coach Sylvester snapped. "If I call your name, you go to the choir room. Brittany! Santana! Rachel! Kurt!" Kurt hooked his arm through Rachel's and swept out of the gym, not bothering to listen to the rest of the Cheerios who were going to be subject to the torture that was Glee Club. He could hear them grumbling angrily behind them. Santana swept past him, elbowing him harshly in the ribs.

"Thanks, _Porcelain_," she said viciously.

"What does this have to do with you?" Rachel whispered as they walked through the halls.

Kurt sighed. "I'm failing Spanish," he whispered back. "Figgins is forcing me to take tutoring sessions with Blaine Anderson. I guess Coach Sylvester and Mr. Schuester worked out a deal to make sure we went through with it. I'm sorry, Rach."

"It's fine," she said, tossing her hair. "I've always wanted to see if I could sing. Besides, this way, I can spend more time with Finn."

They came to a halt outside the choir room and peered through the window. They could see Mr. Schuester through the window. He was gesturing with his hands to a group of kids who looked incredibly bored. Kurt spotted Blaine in the back row, beside Quinn Fabray. Since none of the other Cheerios seemed willing to do it, Kurt forced his way through the crowd and pushed open the door, walking inside and giving all of the Glee kids his best ice queen stare.

"Coach Sylvester sent us," he said stiffly.

"Great!" Mr. Schuester said, beaming at them. "Take a seat, guys, anywhere is fine!"

The Glee kids were staring at the Cheerios with varying reactions – the football players looked pleased to see them. Blaine looked terrified. Quinn was staring at Rachel with a look of open hostility. Kurt tugged Rachel over to a couple of empty seats and they sat, watching as the other Cheerios did the same. There was an uncomfortable tension in the air.

Kurt slumped down in his seat as Mr. Schuester clapped his hands for attention. It was going to be a long few weeks.

* * *

_I want to make the chapters longer but I feel like I'm dragging them out too much if I do... oh well. Hope you enjoyed it, please leave a review :)_


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